


The Only Way To Be Strong Is To Hide The Pain

by just_take_it_to_understand



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Depressed Lance, Happy Ending, Klance (Eventually), Lance Angst, Lance just wants the pain to stop, M/M, Please protect this poor child, Sad Ending, Self-Harm Lance, Self-Hatred Lance, Suicidal Lance, Suicidal Thoughts, The team is kind of shitty, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-28 22:06:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14458791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_take_it_to_understand/pseuds/just_take_it_to_understand
Summary: Lance wants to be worth something to team Voltron. Although every day he seems to be reminded he isn't.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set up where Lance is already pretty depressed, and the team has already started putting him down. He's just feeling super done with everything, and his thoughts don't help him either. This might be part of something bigger, but it's mainly meant to be angsty.

"Lance, come on! Focus! We're never going to get better if you can't work with the team!" yelled Pidge, jumping backward and out of the way just as a training bot aimed to hit her with its sword. Lance clenched his jaw and nodded, even though Pidge wasn't looking at him. 

"Sorry, Pidge. I didn't mean to let it get that close to you." Lance moved to the side as another bot fired a laser at him, but instead, the blast hit Shiro on the shoulder. 

"Lance! Watch it!" he yelled, turning to glare at the blue paladin slightly. Lance, again nodded, his eyes staring at the ground. 

"Sorry." 

Currently, the team was running through one of the exercises Allura had them now doing daily. It was a simple enough, the primary goal to keep the team in the training room as long as possible without letting any of them fall through the floor tiles. Easy right? No. So far the longest time was three minutes, twenty-two seconds. So it wasn't the greatest. 

Lance looked around the room hastily, scanning where the newer bots were coming at him. Quickly, he leaned to the side, using his shield to shield Hunk from being hit. Hunk turned around to see Lance's arm flung out in front of his chest. 

"Hey, thanks, man." he breathed, turning around again to slam his shield against a bot that had come up while he wasn't looking. 

"No problem, pal," Lance said, firing upon another droid. All of the sudden something firm ran into him, knocking Lance over. 

"Hey, watch where you're going!" Keith yelled, slashing his sword through two bots. 

"Sorry, Keith. I didn't see you-" 

"It doesn't matter. Pay attention next time." 

Lance again nodded grimly, setting his sights on his primary objective. He just wanted to keep his team in the exercise. Spinning on his feet, Lance blasted a bot straight through the head, then slammed his fist into another, cringing at the pain as his fingers rammed against the hard metal. Just as he shook out his hand and turned around, a bot came up and shocked him, sending him directly down into the darkness below. 

"End training sequence!" A voice yelled from above, and the groans of the other paladins followed with it. Lance put his hands over his face, sighing as they scrubbed down his mask. 'What the fuck. Stop messing up.' Lance's head reminded him as Lance slowly but surely began sitting up and crawling away from the plastic mattress he landed on. 

When Lance came back up to the top, Hunk and Pidge were standing next to another, seemingly in the beginning of a conversation. Keith stood alone, lightly leaned up against the wall, gazing at nothing in particular, and Shiro and Allura stood next to each other, their arms crossed while they watched Lance walk towards the group. 

"Lance, I expected better of you today. I thought we had gone over 'focusing' on your surroundings. Maybe we need to work on that just a bit more." said Allura tightly, her hands uncrossing to reach to a data pad that rested in her pocket. Her fingers swiped across the screen, flicking up then down and stopping in a specific setting. "The time," she began, pausing to get everyone's attention. The group held their breaths, hoping that their time was higher than the last. "Is three minutes, ten seconds." More groans rolled out from the paladins, all very frustrated on how they had not achieved their goal. 

"Way to go, Lance," Pidge said sarcastically, bumping into him as she brushed past him, leaving the training room. Lance began a form of apology but was interrupted by Keith. 

"Pidge is right. You seriously need to get your head in the game. Someday this situation is going to happen in real life, except when that happens, someone is going to be seriously injured."  


"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I promise I didn't mean to. I was trying to make sure-" 

"It doesn't matter. Save it," said Shiro, walking up to Lance, so he loomed over him. Lance shrunk down on the spot, not meeting Shiro's eyes. "Maybe you should stay in here just a little longer. Extra training never hurt anyone. Maybe we'll try this drill again tomorrow. That way we can all be prepared. Goodnight Lance." he said coldly, following Pidge's direction of leave. Keith was soon to follow after. 

Lance exhaled quickly, closing his eyes while gripping his forearms tightly. He could hear Allura's light footsteps as she left too, now the only person left in the room being Hunk. 

"Hey, it happens to everyone Lance. The team's tired from all the working today. They'll come around, trust me." Lance gave a smile at Hunk, his soul breaking just a little bit more as he lied through his teeth. He wished he could grin once without having to fake it. He was getting tired of this. 

"Thanks, buddy. I think I'm going to take Shiro's advice and stay here for a while. Never hurts to have too much training." Hunk pursed his lips, his eyebrows creasing on his forehead. He had known Lance long enough to tell when something was going on with him. And this was one of those times. 

"Okay..." he began, his feet taking short steps as he walked to the door. He stopped just before he left, starting his sentence back over again. "Lance, are you okay? I've noticed you haven't been yourself lately. I'm worried."  
Lance's breath caught in his throat. 

'No.' Lance wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to shout out as the yellow paladin's eyes bore into him. 'I'm not okay. I've never been okay. Help me, please Hunk. I can't do this anymore. It's too much. I want to die. I need to die. Please.' But Lance didn't let his so-called 'happy facade' break as another painful smile graced his lips. 

"Me, okay? I'm better than okay. I'm more okay than okay can be okay." he chirped, moving past Hunk to hide the pain in his eyes. "I want to start training again. I need to be if I'm going to show off for the ladies." Hunk took that as the sign to leave. 

"Okay man, whatever you say." he laughed, rolling his eyes, the door sliding closed behind him. Lance waited a few good seconds after Hunk left, just to make sure he wasn't at the door listening, but after Lance decided the coast was clear, he let out an ear-piercing scream. 

He launched the Bayard in his hand as hard as he could against the wall, the surface now indented with the shape of a lined c. He tore his helmet off his head, slamming it into the ground, then kicking it, so the visor cracked where it hit the opposite wall. He looked around the place. Lance screamed again, angry that there was nothing left to throw in the incredibly bare room. 

Without some object to be angry at, his anger subsided and flowed into sadness. Tears began to leak out of the corners of his eyes as he walked forward to the locking mechanism on the door, pressing the button, then slumping forward until his knees hit the ground. 'Why can't you just do things right?!' he yelled at himself, his fingers tightly gripping the fabric of his suit. 

'Look at you. Pathetic. Crying like a baby. Why can't you be as strong as Keith and Shiro? Why can't you be as smart as Pidge? Why can't you be like Hunk or Allura or Coran, needed members of this team? What are you doing Lance? Why are you still here?' Tears ran down his wrists as his sleeve rolled down, revealing fresh, pink cuts from the day before. 

"I don't know." he cried softly, his fingers lightly tugging on his other hand's fingertips. "I don't know."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance comes to terms with how he thinks Voltron thinks of him while having a conversation with his demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more of a filler. I'm just winging this story, yah know? I went to see Infinity War today, and let me tell you, it is sad. Don't watch it if you plan to have your feelings blown to smithereens. I'm honestly dead right now.

Lance couldn't sleep. It just wouldn't come to him. Even after he stayed in the training room for another three hours, his mind was too numb to need rest. He sat with his back against the wall next to his dresser. His arms were held on the top of his head, while his chin rested on bent knees. He didn't know what to do.

Lance sniffled, his nose red and eyes sore after he cried himself silly. He tried, he did, to stop the tears and ignore the pain, but for someone reason, tonight was worse than others. He just couldn't stop thinking about his team and what they said.

'It wasn't even that bad.' he had been repeating as the voices of his team became an endless cycle. 

'Pay attention, Lance. Be better, Lance. It doesn't matter, Lance. You don't matter.' Even though those weren't the exact words they used, he knew they were meant to be implied. He tried to convince himself their words said nothing, and that they were frustrated with Zarkon and not him, but he couldn't. He knew they were right. And that hurt. Way more than it should.

"Why?" Lance whispered, his head turning up to stare at the ceiling. "Why can't I be who they want me to be? I'm trying. Hard. I am trying as hard as I can. But every little thing I do seems not to be good enough."

He dug his nails into the sides of his arms; his armor swapped out for a t-shirt and sweatpants. He couldn't bring himself to take a shower after training, so his new clothes had begun to reek with the dull smell of sweat. His fingers pressed down harder.

"Is this just how I'm supposed to be? A screw-up? Someone who can't do anything right? Someone who has to tell themselves consistently 'it's okay,' even when they know it's not? Is that normal?" 

Lance didn't know anymore. He couldn't tell. He couldn't separate the differences between being sad, or depressed. The feelings had blended into one; nothingness. But that's what he was. Nothing.

"Come on, pull it together," he said, his eyes directly staring at the shelf front of him. "You can't think about this stuff. You told Shiro that you'd be better, and you have to keep your word." Lance half-heartedly grinned, thinking about how he'd make Shiro proud, but then his face fell as he remembered he couldn't. How could he even try to do that, with everyone else being so much more talented than he was? Was he even talented at anything? Sharpshooter was just a nickname, and being a goofball didn't take talent. 

God.

He was nothing, wasn't he?

Lance punched his drawer. The same hand he had injured early throbbed even more. Lance laid his head back against the wall, new tears silently rolling down his cheeks. Man, he was weak.

'Why are you crying you bitch? Crying's never helped anyone. It's stupid. Just like you. You never help. You're always failing. Screwing up. You drag the team down; it's no wonder they want you gone.'

They did. Lance knew they did. He wasn't needed on team Voltron. His jokes were always sighed at; his flirting was always ignored, and his fighting was merely awful. And he could easily be replaced as the blue paladin; Allura was definitely up to the task. She flew a freakin battle craft that was also a castle for christ's sake. A lion was nothing.

'And she'd be better at it too. You're selfish. You want to feel important by being a pilot, but you're just holding onto someone else's potential. Stealing their role. You know you aren't needed, so why are you staying? You're existence is just making their lives harder.'

The voice in Lance's head was back again, back again to torment him.

"I know. I fucking know okay? Can't you just shut up for once in your goddamn life?" But Lance knew his anger was pointless. He was talking to himself. His thoughts were a part of him. They wouldn't go away just because he told them to. 

"God," he sighed, standing to his feet and leaning backward. "I'm going insane, aren't I? Talking to myself, acting like my thoughts are another person." The tears that had once been, laid in dried water lines down Lance's face. He silently moved to his bathroom, wetting a washcloth with cold water to wash at his face. 

Lance's eyes caught something as the cloth pulled away, something silver and shiny glinting at him through the vent in the floor. His hands removed the lined cover, careful not to let it drop back in, afraid that the item would fall into the air shafts. He didn't know why he was so apprehensive the grab the item, his fingers curling and uncurling around the rectangular metal. He knew what it was. He shouldn't be scared. He had put it down there yesterday to prevent anyone from seeing it, just in case someone would need to use his bathroom. Not that anyone visited him anymore. 

Lance brought the broken shaving blade up to his face, inspecting the lines of blood that trailed across so blatantly. Was he going to do this again? We're the scars on his arms, not enough proof of how he was feeling? 

No, they weren't. He needed this. He deserved this.

Slowly the razor moved, Lance not even wincing as he traced over a still-healing line. He had gone numb to this type of pain ever since he could remember.

"One cut for upsetting Pidge," he mumbled, satisfied with the way blood ran down his arm and off to the floor. "Another for lying to Hunk. Two for disappointing Shiro and Allura." he continued, not even stopping when salty tears drained into the cuts. "And three cuts for not being good enough for Keith to trust as a partner." he whimpered, the last words hurting the most. 

He didn't know why Keith's opinion of him was always more important than the others, but for some reason, it was.

The blood on Lance's hands made the blade slip from between his fingers, landing on the floor with a 'clink.' The tile was covered with little dots of blood, spread out for every time Lance had fidgited. Who knew an item such as small as this could be so dangerous? Didn't the company who made it realize how easy it would be to take your own life using it? But maybe that was the point. Is it possible they wanted Lance to die?

'No,' Lance thought, tossing the blade into a towel while picking up another to wrap around his arm. He was thinking more clearly now that he had gotten what he deserved. 'They don't want you dead, and neither do you. You can hold out for a few more days. You're strong enough to do that. Then it can all be over.'

Lance didn't know what he was waiting for though. Suicide sounded real nice. He had nothing left to be able to want to live. But something inside of him would not let him go that easily. 

Lance walked out of the bathroom to go to under his bed, grabbing bandaids. He strapped them on one by one until all the open pieces of skin were covered. After that, Lance put on his brave face, grabbed his jacket, and walked out of his door. Maybe a nice walk would help to tire him out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's stroll takes an unexpected turn, but that turn may be one of the only things that can stop Lance from listening to the thoughts inside his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry that this chapter wasn't posted yesterday. AO3 wouldn't open and my computer was being dumb so... (PS- If you're expecting some big plot to this story, I'm sorry to disappoint. It's just kinda a rant about Lance's feelings and what he's going through.)

The hallway was eerily silent, barely a rustle above the scuffing of Lance's shoes. The only light that shone was from the rectangular glow panels above him spread out by a meter. In a way, it almost made Lance feel at peace. Well, he'd be at peace if his mind would stop running around and listing off millions of descriptions of what was wrong with him. That was the only downfall. 

As he walked, Lance leaned close the right side of the wall, his fingers tracing the calm surface. Rough welts and spidery cracks brushed underneath his palm. Even though the ship didn't give the appearance; it was getting ancient. 10,000 years would do that to something. And this thing had to have fought in countless battles before, taking significant attacks from the Galra, and maybe some loose asteroids in space. He didn't understand how Allura and Coran were able to keep it in such good condition. It indeed was a miracle. 

'It's _also_ a miracle of how you've managed to live this long Lance. I was so sure you were going to do it. Maybe you're weaker than I thought. You don't have the guts to go through with suicide, do you?' A sigh left Lance's mouth, his breath coming out shaky. Why must he be put down like this? 

"Listen, I do have the guts, I know I do. I'm just choosing not to. I didn't do it a few weeks ago, and I didn't do it in the bathroom. That's my decision. I'll do it when I'm ready." 

'Oh but you _are_ ready. You've been ready ever since your first day at the Garrison. Hell, you were even prepared when your father punched you so hard you-' 

"Enough!" yelled Lance, stopping instantly in his tracks. The hallway carried the echo of his voice until it became a hollow whisper. "I don't need you telling me what already happened and what I already know. I can't do anything about my father. It's in the past, and I've forgiven him. And I also don't need you saying I'm ready. I know I am, okay? It's... just not the right time yet. It'll happen when it needs to happen." The voice went mute in his head, his thoughts no longer so obtrusive. For a minute Lance was glad the noise was gone, but he soon realized again, that he was left alone. He just wanted someone real, someone pleasant to be talking to right now. He needed it. 

And maybe someone upstairs was listening to his prayers, for footsteps paced not too far down into the corridor. 

Speeding up his pace, Lance walked faster, his legs exercising long strides. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, taking a small glance to make sure his arm was covered up. That was the one thing he didn't want to talk about right now. Coming to a turn, Lance sped around it, not giving a second thought that the person could be turning just as he was. He wished he had paid attention. 

"The fuck!?" someone swore and questioned, a low voice growling out the words. The figure rubbed at his forehead, black gloves moving up and down in front of his eyes. 

Keith. 

Crap. 

"Shit, shit. Sorry, Keith. I didn't mean to run into you." Lance worried, his figure leaning down to give Keith a hand. With being a few inches taller than the raven-haired boy, Lance had been mainly unharmed. Lance's hand was swatted away as Keith glared up at him. Keith stood up on his own, his arms crossed over his chest. It was a position Lance had noticed becoming more and more common around him these days. 

"Dammit, Lance. How many times do I have to tell you to watch where you're going? You always seem to be running into me." 

Was he? Was Lance running into Keith? The more he thought about it; the more accurate Keith's statement was becoming. He _was_ running into Keith, a lot. Like maybe 6 or 7 seven times just this weak. Perhaps he needed glasses. 

"Glasses? Do you need glasses, Lance?" Keith questioned, drawing Lance back into his current conversation. Oops. He had accidentally voiced that last bit out loud. 

"What? Oh, um, no. I don't think so. Sorry, by the way. For running into you. I know I said that already but I didn't know if you had heard me. And I don't want you thinking I'm some jerk who won't apologize, cause I'm not, but better to be safe than sorry, right?" Keith gave Lance a weird look, his mouth slightly hanging open. 

"What are you talking about?" Keith asked, his head somewhat tilting to the side. Oh no, Lance was rambling. 

"You know what? Never mind. It wasn't important." Lance hurridly stated, moving around Keith as purple eyes followed his every move. From where Keith had come from, Lance now was walking backward towards. What an awkward situation. Ugh, is he this bad at conversations? "Um, well, I have to gay, I mean go." Lance voiced, choking on his tongue after he realized what he had just said. What was he doing? And where did that come from? "I have some plans that I have to get started on right away. Significant plans they are. Very very significant." Keith, again, gave Lance another strange look. 

"In the kitchen?" he questioned, Lance turning around actually to look where he was heading. Dang. It was the kitchen. 

"Yeah. Absolutely." he smiled, trying to think of a quick excuse to why he was here. So much for having a heartfelt conversation with someone tonight. "I have this new idea for a sandwich that I'm excited to try out. Hunk figured out how to make some of the food goo taste like garlic. Do a pizza and a spaghetti sandwich sound good to you?" Lance cringed at the ingredient choices. Separated, the foods were delicious, but together they were something that just couldn't happen. Keith seemed to wince as well. 

"Totally. Sounds amazing," he muttered, already turning around to walk away. Lance huffed a little in his throat, disappointed that he was being left so soon. Nobody wanted to be in his company it seemed. 

'See, no one wants you, no one needs you. Let's go, Lance. Back to the bedroom where we can make all this sadness end. Think. It'll bring you peace and calm, and it will never leave you feeling useless. Just let go Lance. Let go.' 

"I believe I told you to shut up," Lance growled, turning to look at his shoulder as if two little figures of himself would be sitting there. If there were, the bad one of himself would be the only one there, and the good one was either on a very long vacation or dead. It was probably the second option. 

"What did you say?" Keith questioned, halting in his tracks as he spun on his feet. An angered appearance ghosted over him, his stature freezing to become defensive. It was actually quite intimidating. 

"Nothing. Nothing again," Lance lied, twiddling his thumbs nervously behind his back. "Just humming a little tune," he mumbled, slowly backing away from the angry boy. Leave it to Lance to always upset the most annoyed person. 

"Whatever," Keith said, rolling his eyes as he began walking again. "I better not be smelling your snack all the way down into my room Lance." he threatened, turning around the same corner Lance had while disappearing from Lance's view. Lance sighed as his nerves slowly tiddled out from his body. Why was he even nervous? 

"Okay. Just ignore it. You're fine." Lance reassured himself, finally walking into the kitchen and pulling out one of the chairs. He sat down on it backward, his arms resting on the backboard. He set his chin on the top of his hands, the air from his nose tickling his fingertips. His hair gently dropped in front of his eyes. "Just relax and try to think about something happy." he offered himself, his body shivering once before settling down contentedly. 

Lance did get a happy thought, but it was filled with pictures of a red-jacketed paladin and the feel of his chest against Lance's for the brief, few seconds that they had touched. It wasn't what Lance had in mind when he said 'happy,' but he wasn't disappointed. The voice inside him also seemed too upset to try and pull Lance out of his relaxing state, and it let the boy have some good feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wakes up in the kitchen after a somewhat good night of sleep, but his morning doesn't seem to be off to a great start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, apologies for this sorry script for a story. I still don't know where it's heading (even though I've had some ideas), but you guys seem to like it, so thank you! It's your guys' comments that are keeping me inspired!

"Up and at em Lance! We've got a long day of work ahead of us!" yelled Shiro, a hand being slammed on the table ahead of Lance's ear. He shot straight up, arms flailing like a kite, and fell off his chair backward. He hit his head on the end of the table, a low groan slipping past his lips.

"What?" he mumbled, rubbing his head tenderly with his hand. His other hand stroked at the sleep in his eyes, squinting through the bright light in the kitchen. A soft yawn escaped his lips, followed by a scratch on his neck. Lance peered around.

"What?" he asked again, noticing that most of his teammates were in the same room as he. Pidge sat on the floor, her headphones slotted over her ears, Hunk stood at the stove, most likely preparing something for the Paladins to eat, and Shiro was still in front of him, his arms crossed while looking scary. The only exceptions to this unexpected gathering were Coran, Allura, and Keith. Where they were, Lance didn't care.

"Morning Lance," Hunk started, turning around from where he stood. Lance turned around too, now facing the correct position in which he should be sitting. Hunk gave him a bright smile and a little wave, which Lance returned utterly. "Did you sleep well? I went to knock on your door this morning to see how you were doing, but when no one answered, I got a little worried. So I went into your room to see if you had your earbuds on or something, but when you weren't there too, I figured you must have been in the kitchen. But I did _not_ expect you to be sleeping. You must have been pretty tired from training yesterday. But I don't know _how_ you got in here; you didn't come for supper last night. Did you come for a midnight snack?"

Lance's brain fussed at all the information Hunk stuck at him. It was too early at the beginning of the day to be hearing this all at once.

"Erm, yeah." Lance began, putting his hands under the bottom of his thighs. "I did come for a snack. I guess I must have fallen asleep." he muttered at the end, soft enough for neither Pidge or Shiro to hear, but enough, so Hunk gave him another grin and set down a plate in front of him. A big green pile of space goo was placed on top of it, steam billowing out from the substance. Lance wasn't really in the mood to be eating though. He hadn't been for the last few days.

Without touching his food, Lance pushed his chair back and stood up, balancing on his toes as he cracked his back. He pulled at his wrist to give him the extra pull, and once he was satisfied with the light 'pop' that was given, he sighed and leaned forward on the table top. His fingers grabbed underneath the edge as a sudden wave of dizziness hit him. Lance leaned forward and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly. It didn't seem to help. Maybe it was because of the weird position he had been sleeping in.

"Lance." Shiro's voice filtered into Lance's ears, his tone not sounding too pleased. What had he done now? Lance grimaced, turning around to face the black paladin. Shiro had a cold glare laced upon his eyes, a frown pulling at the corners of his lips. "I want to see if your extra training has paid off, and I need to know you're going to be battle ready if the Galra ever thinks about attacking again. I think we should beginning training right away. I don't want the team getting hurt on your account."

Ouch. That hurt. Lance wasn't going to injure the team just because of his training. And he _had_ had the extra hours, so something must have been improved. Although it bothered him slightly that Shiro hadn't said anything about Lance getting hurt. But maybe he just forgot to add his name, right? Shiro wouldn't leave him out on purpose.

"Okay, that sounds good. But I'm warning you, I feel a little-" Lance cut himself off, his mouth clamping shut. No. He wasn't going to talk about how he was feeling. That was a sign of weakness, and Lance wanted to prove that that wasn't something he needed to work on. He told himself he was going to improve for Shiro, and this was the way to do it. At least he hoped it was.

"Ahh, good morning Keith." Hunk said, his eyes turning away from the pan in front of him. Thankfully Hunk had saved Lance from having to continue talking to Shiro. Keith had just walked into the room, already dressed and looking wide awake. He had most likely been training. Hunk repeated the same gestures as he had to Lance, waving and smiling, but Keith didn't have the courtesy to return them.

_Dick_ Lance thought, watching Keith pull out a stool before Lance was walking away from his food to sit down next to Pidge. As he looked at her screen, he could tell she was working on some code. Not that coding was any different from what she usually did every morning.

"Good morning Pidge," Lance said lightly, tipping off one her headphones just like he had the day they rescued Shiro. But this time she didn't shriek or gasp. She just ignored him, placed the earphone back on her ear, and turned to face the opposite direction, her computer going with her.

"Okay then," Lance mumbled, rolling away from her to the middle of the floor. He spread his body like a star, deciding that would be the most comfortable position since there was no carpet.

Ignoring the itching feeling of despair slowly crawling up his bones, Lance sighed and closed his eyes, breathing in the cold air. The air closest to the ground always was the most refreshing. Lance turned on his side, facing the wall. He could see Pidge at the bottom of his feet, typing away. He wouldn't bother her again.

Choosing not to pay attention to the rest of the paladins, Lance closed his eyes, taking comfort in what little self-assurance he had left.

'Enjoy it while it lasts Lance. Soon enough you won't be needing it.'

No. 

Please.

Not now.

'Why not right now? It isn't like your busy. And you should be grateful. I've waited until you were completely and entirely free. I didn't send you bad dreams; I didn't interrupt your sleep, you should be thankful you've gotten this much time to yourself.'

_But why do you have to talk to me? Can't you just go away?_ Lance stressed, inhaling sharply.

'Lance, I thought you understood. I'm a part of you. I can't just disappear like a magician. I talk to you because you need to know the truth. Who else is going to stand up and say what they think? Hunk sure as hell isn't going to do it. I believe you just can't accept the details of what you are.' the voice sneered, it's voice as cold as ice.

_Oh, and what am I?_ Lance thought, his eyebrows furrowing together. He was sure he already knew the answer.

'You're a sad disappointment for a human Lance. You're always messing up, always letting down the team and dragging them with you. Honestly, it's strange they haven't already thrown you away. Pidge refuses to speak to you, Shiro doesn't think you're ready to be a paladin, Allura, and Coran barely even pay attention to you, and Keith barely acknowledges you're alive. And Hunk only treats you so kindly because he pities you. They're not your real friends Lance. Those friends are back on Earth, living their lives, moving on. They've probably already forgotten who you are, just like your family.'

Lance gulped sadly.

It was right, everything. His teammates were all correct, down to the last drop. He wasn't worthy to be a paladin. He wasn't good enough to be their partner. He had also lost contact with his friends when he started at the Garrison. And his family, no. He didn't even want to think about them. If he did, he might begin overthinking, and one thing would lead to another, and he would be back in his room with a blade in his hand.

"Stop it," Lance whispered, biting his tongue as hard as he could. The pain seemed to distract him from his thoughts, but he couldn't stop thinking of what had already been said. Why did he have to be this way? He was taught in school that he should be himself and not care what others think, but if he's awful, then shouldn't he change? Life chose him to be the scapegoat, didn't it?

Just before Lance was about to get up to sit in his room, the alarms went off, and Allura's voice blared through the speakers. "Paladins, get to your lions now!"


End file.
